


Love me Harder

by DollyPop



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, BDSM Scene, Bondage, Collars, Consensual Kink, Dom!Stein, Dom/sub, Explicit Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Kinky, Safe Sane and Consensual, Safewords, Sub!Marie, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-02
Updated: 2016-11-02
Packaged: 2018-08-28 17:01:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8454559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DollyPop/pseuds/DollyPop
Summary: Marie was far from the conservative good girl everyone had assumed her to be, kinkier than even he’d previously assumed, but to soul stitch her down while they had sex?Well, even he didn't see that one coming.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [katyfaise](https://archiveofourown.org/users/katyfaise/gifts), [messofthejess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/messofthejess/gifts).



“Marie…I’m unsure if I _can_. Are you certain you want to trust me in such a regard?”

And, at that, she looked away and he sighed, taking his glasses off as he turned to her, looking over the rigid line of her shoulders and the frazzled nature of her soul. It wasn’t unusual that she was asking him, not really. Truthfully, he was surprised it didn’t come sooner. Marie was _far_ from the conservative good girl everyone had assumed her to be, kinkier than even _he’d_ previously assumed, but he wasn’t sure if he could have such complete control over her like that without accidentally hurting her. And that, surely, he would never forgive of himself.

To Soul Stitch her down while they had sex was an unexpected request, not _strange_ , but she was the only person on the entire planet who would _willingly_ place herself in his complete and total mercy. And damnit all if that didn’t make him want to press her to the nearest flat surface, including a wall, and take her right then and there, but he couldn’t trust himself to that. How could he trust himself to Marie, as precious as she was, in the most vulnerable position anyone could ever be?

“Frank, I-“ she sighed heavily, running a hand through her hair and worrying her lip between her teeth, fidgeting. “ _Please_? I’ve just- fuck, I’ve had the worst kind of day- week- and I just- I swear I’m just going to _scream_ and nothing _helps,_ ” she told him, making a frustrated noise in her throat as she leaned against the bedpost, and he watched her. “The spar didn’t help and the fighting didn’t help and- I just need to- I just need to _let go_. And you’re the only person I can…that I _want_ to do that with…”

He looked at her for a long while before walking over to her, setting his large hand upon her hip as he looked her in the eye almost unnervingly. He could feel the nervous flutter of her soul through their natural resonance, as well as the slight tinge of embarrassment. His other hand came to the top of her head, smoothing her hair down. “Is it what will make you happy?”

She looked up at him. “Only if…only if you want to, too.”

He crooked a smile at her, running his fingers over her ear and down her neck, stroking, feeling her shiver pleasantly. “I assume you know me well enough to understand I do.”

“I…then… _please_?” she said, biting her lip. “I just…I need this…right now…”

With that, she looked away, closing her eye, bringing her arms around her.

“Get on the bed,” he told her, and her eye flew open, blinking at him in momentary confusion.

“What?” she asked, but he had already fluttered his hands to her ribcage, pulling at her shirt.

“Get. On. The. Bed,” he reiterated, and this time, his voice dropped as Marie’s balance was upset when her knees hit against the mattress. With a swiftness that left her breathless, he grasped her about the waist and brought her up so she was off her feet, settling her onto the plush pillowtop before he pushed at her shoulder to have her lying flat.

“Frank-“

“Shhh,” he assured, curling over her and tenderly kissing her cheek, and she gasped as her hands came to his back, fisting his jacket. She muttered his name once more, but he brought his knee between her legs, hiking up her skirt as he kissed his way to her ear, biting down on the lobe. Her breathy, pleased sounds urged him on, but he took a single moment to whisper, “Safeword?” in her ear, running his hands up and down her sides.

“I- um- i-izuna,” she said, and he pulled away to look at her.

“Izuna?”

“Yeah,” she assured, swallowed and nodding. His brows furrowed for a moment.

“Are you _certain_ you want this?” he asked, and Marie gave him a soft smile, nodding, letting her hands drop to her sides.

“Yes. You just- took me by surprise,” she giggled. “It was a good surprise, though.”

“If you want to stop-“

“I’ll say the safeword,” she assured, before lifting her head up and kissing him tenderly. He brought one of his hands to the back of her head, cradling her as he reciprocated, but she pulled away before it could go much farther. “Please,” she muttered. “I need you to…please.”

He nodded, rucking her skirt up higher with his knee until it was pressed against her core and- _fuck_ , she wasn’t even wearing panties, already leaving a wet spot on his knee. Stein smirked at her when she blushed, her skirt nothing more than a ring of fabric at her waist as she was exposed to him, already so ready.

It was this way every time she asked for something unconventional. Good, sweet, precious Marie: oh, sometimes she didn’t want gentle from him. Sometimes, it was the last thing on her mind when she wanted him to fuck her, hard, hands on her calves as he pushed her knees to her chest and pinned her because she wanted to be held down, writhing, bucking savagely as she called his name.

Oh, he’d been surprised when she’d admitted that she wanted him to pull her hair, to hold her throat and squeeze, to screw her until her only eye was rolling and the only thing she could say was his name. She didn’t want a tender kiss to her ankle, a gentle thumb caressing her lower lip, like he’d initially though. She wanted him to bite her lips until she was swollen. And sometimes, like then, she was downright throbbing for him to hold her down, her back arching painfully over the bed as he grabbed her ass.

“What do you want, Marie?” he asked as he kissed down her neck, biting at her pulse point and making her squirm.

“I-you already- _ah_ \- know!”

“I need it explicitly,” he informed, bringing his hand under her shirt and into her bra, pinching her nipple. “How badly do you want this?”

“So bad,” she whispered. “I want you to- tie me down.”

He grinned as he sucked on her collarbone, knowing he was the reason her words were so breathy and soft. Slowly, he settled both of his knees between her legs, forcing them obscenely open as he commanded her to throw her arms out at her sides. “I suggest you get comfortable, Marie. You will be in this position for a long while,” he informed, waiting as she squirmed before nodding, indicating that she was ready. He looked her over, finally unbuttoning her blouse and snapping the front clasp of her bra open to reveal her entire body to him, and his fingers crept between her breasts, massaging the skin for a moment. “This will sting,” he warned, before he forced his wavelength and shocked her, slightly, making her cry out as she arched.

Oh, but how beautiful she was in that moment, with cheeks flushed and skin goosefleshed and pink from the minor electric stimulation. Her nipples hardened immediately, hips jolting for just a moment before they settled back upon the bed.

He knew she could take it. In the past, she’d wanted him rough, rougher than he’d been previously comfortable with, so sure she’d break, and hard, on her hands and knees as she flexed her spine, and she hadn’t broken. She’d wanted her face in the pillows as she screamed, drenching his thighs and she didn’t want him to stop even when she was twitching frantically, body hyper-sensitive.

“Try to move,” he commanded, and he could feel when she did, her soft gasp echoing in the room.

“I- I can’t.”

“You enjoy that, don’t you? Being at my mercy?” he asked, listening as her breathing got harder, and the wet spot she was leaving against the knee of his pants only grew, making him smile at her deviously. He gently traced his fingertips over her cheek, kissing beneath her jaw. “You’re a perfect specimen, Marie,” he praised, and her breath hitched. “So _willing._ ”

Slowly, he allowed his hands to trail toward her center, one of them traveling down her belly from their spot on her cheek and the other climbing over her hips and thighs.

She all but sobbed when he parted her, running his finger between her lips and collecting her wetness, slicking himself with her. This was- she couldn’t handle his teasing. The ache was already becoming too much, and she couldn’t even jolt when he brushed over her clit.

“ _Please_?” she begged. She wanted it so much harder than this. Perhaps she should have been more explicit, told him she wanted him to _take_ her: not tease her, as he so loved. But when he only replied to her pleads by pressing his finger into her and stroking over her walls, over the spot she once thought was a myth, she could do little more than cry out.

Her thighs were trembling, but that was the only motion she could make, helpless but to listen in to the loud, wet sounds of him fingerfucking her. And she couldn’t help but remember the last time she was in a similar position, but she had been draped over his knees, then, fingered until she couldn’t even see straight, brought to the edge again and again.

The thought combined with her current immobility made something inside of her nearly snap, and the heat beneath her skin pleaded for release as he added a second finger, stretching her. He had no need to: she was already so pink and sopping and _ready_ , and she told him so, panting hard.

“Shhhh,” he shushed, slowly kissing over her body, touch practically worshipping as he twisted his fingers and pressed up, massaging the front of her walls so well she moaned.

The bed sheets were soft and silky and his lips were chapped and hot and his fingers were filling her so perfectly and she couldn’t arch toward any of it, soul-stitched down and at his mercy. She was lucky he hadn’t twisted her eyepatch around, putting it over her good eye and effectively cutting her off from vision, but she still couldn’t look down at him, see what he was going to do. She was left without access to touch or, truly, sight, as she was forced to watch the ceiling, every single touch he bestowed upon her a surprise.

That’s why she wasn’t expecting it: wasn’t expecting for the faintest trace of his calloused fingertip on the underside of her breast, why she gasped out, sounding all too wanting for a singular touch. Her skin goosefleshed, entire body surprised. She wished they were in resonance so she could sense him, wanted to know what he was thinking or how he was feeling, but he only cupped her breast for a single moment, his fingernail tracing her areola once, twice, and then the touch was gone. She whimpered, and the sound cut through her and through the room.

Slowly, his finger ghosted down her side, over the curve of her hip, down to her knee and then back up. She wanted to squirm, to writhe, but the soul-stitches kept her in place. The delicate, tender way one of his hands was touching her combined with the almost brutal pace of his fingers and left her ricocheting between sensations. And at the center of it all was the large swell of arousal she had from being immobile and vulnerable, and, _lord_ , she hadn’t banked on being so horny at being at his mercy. Knowing that he had complete control over the situation shouldn’t have made her so eager, and she didn’t think she’d be so yearning so soon.

Her mouth was already hanging open when his palm whispered over her navel so he could repeat his motions on her other side, and she breathed out “Franken,” sounding like she was already begging him. He must have been amused, because he tapped her ribcage before running a line down her body, this time with even less pressure.

“How are you feeling, Marie?”

“So go-ood-“ she panted.

“Do you require a break?” he asked, swirling his free hand over her hip as he curled his fingers inside of her, and judging by the moan she let out, how her chest was heaving with her breath, that would be a negative.

“N-no, keep _going_. Fuck, harder- I need you h-harder.”

He smirked at that. It sent a jolt through him every time he remembered that right in front of him was Marie Mjolnir, entirely at his mercy. He could do anything and she wouldn’t be able to move: her trust, her faith in him was intoxicating and he almost felt giddy off of the thought. How often did he get someone so willing? He looked down at her, spread eagle and panting for him as he obliged, reigning in the more animal urge to skip the foreplay, the teasing, and simply bring himself into her.

But- no. No. Not then. Just a little while longer. She moaned out a broken “More,” and he added another finger, taking his free hand off of her so he could unbutton his pants, shoving them down to relieve the aching pressure his erection was causing by being so confined. He breathed a sigh of relief, but it was covered up by Marie’s own, much louder vocalizations.

His eyes focused on the flush over her breasts and he flicked her nipple, the sensation making Marie call out his name. He paused, giving her time to calm before he lowered his head and licked. All Marie had left was the ability to speak, and she was louder than usual due to the fact. He took the nub in his mouth, sucking lightly. Her nipples had always been particularly sensitive, her entire breast was, really, a rarity for a woman with a bust of her impressive size, and just the lightest suckle had her keening, wailing when he lightly scraped his teeth and pressed the flat of his tongue to her. He pulled away enough to blow some cool air over the wet spot, and though she was entirely unable to move, the shiver that went through her was still present. It seemed he didn’t have as a tight a reign on involuntary bodily functions so much so as general motor control. That was fascinating in of itself, and he switched from one breast to the other, determined to see the same reaction.

Through their resonance, he could feel her orgasm looming, and he slowed his pace, making her sob out for him.

But instead of speeding up immediately, he trailed his fingers back to her sternum, thumb rubbing underneath her breast, and shocked her with his wavelength once more,  concentrating on the Soul-Sutures and focusing on keeping them as firm as he could when he blew some air on her, again.

The shiver her body wanted to give was stopped, and she cried out louder, babbling something. He grinned at that before he kissed between her breasts, lowering his mouth down down down her body. In the meantime, he moved his hand to where her collarbones dipped, fingering the chain she had at her throat. And when he parted her, with a surgeon’s precise touch, and finally, _finally,_ licked at her, she keened.

“Franken!” she screamed out, everything inside of her coiling up tighter tighter tighter. He laved over her, burying his face between her folds and tasting her. But just when she was right there- _right there_ , he stopped completely.

The sob she let out was almost heartbreaking. “N-no! I was almost- I had- _Frank-_ “ she cried, and something in him throbbed at denying her, but it would make the release so much more powerful for her, in the long run, anyway. He closed his eyes, steadying his wavelength to lessen the sutures enough to feel her tremble and twitch. He didn’t want to kiss her when she couldn’t kiss back, but he did brush their lips together, licking at her cupid’s bow, whispering reassurances. 

He felt her struggle against his soul-stitches, no doubt trying to lift her head and connect their lips or roll her hips to push them against his, but he kept his control firm. “Shhh, I know, I know.”

He made sure that when he pulled away from her completely, tugging his shirt and labcoat off, pushing his pants down to his knees and hissing when he spread her slick over his hardness, that he was fast. Marie was vulnerable, she was in the least conducive state to being left alone. And she still whimpered when he pulled from her, but his body was upon her almost immediately after, his hard length pressing between her legs, making her mewl.

“Is this what you wanted?” he muttered, grinding his hips against her, voice harsh as he felt her slickness. “Tell me.”

“ _Yes_.”

“What else do you want? Just this?”

“No- I- God, _please?_ Frank, _please!_ Fuck me,” she begged, gasping as he reached between them, grasping himself and, without warning, sliding into her, each of his piercings, once a surprise to her, now only a pleasant texture, sinking in smoothly. 

The moment broke most of his control over the soul stitches, as he moaned at the warm, wet heat of her, so plush and familiar and wonderful, and his head swum for a moment, unable to keep the control as Marie writhed beneath him as much as she was able, her hands curling into fists, wanting leverage, trying to grind against the bump of metal that sat snugly against her G-spot. 

He surged his wavelength the instant he realized, and she yelped when she felt herself immobilize once more, and he grasped at her necklace.

When he did, it was like electricity yawned between them. The sparks traveled through their connection and he felt like the heat it brought pooled at the base of his spine, making his hips stutter.

The unspoken in the action was thick. The necklace was one he had gifted her back when they were just children and she’d loved him for the first time. And she’d never taken it off since then. The comment he’d made, sometime in the more near past, about it being like a sort of collar, had sparked something in her that rung too true. And so, every time he touched her necklace, it was a reminder that here she was, _his,_ and so wanting to be so.

No time more than then did it amaze him how bold Marie was, letting him have his way with her as she lay helpless beneath him. Her trust, her absolute, unshakable faith almost had him spilling into her, and he needed to still to catch his breath and his bearings. Marie cried out beneath him and he tugged at her necklace and her complain turned to a whimper, her body unable to even wriggle about, squirm for friction. He prided himself on his work, and his soul stitches were as tight as usual, leaving Marie unable to move.

He could feel the way her soul was shimmering in pleasure: at being stretched around him, at being at his mercy, at being reminded of her elf-imposed collar.

The reminder heated him up, too, and he flexed his muscles, making his cock twitch inside of her so he could see the pleasure bloom on her face once more. His free hand came between her thighs and he pinched her clit, feeling the resistance against his soul stitches, how she wanted to jolt, her sharp yelp almost echoing in the lab. And yet, she couldn’t. She couldn’t because he was preventing her from doing so, and he rubbed her, slowly at first before he pinched once more, making Marie cry out even louder.

“That was- a bold move, Marie,” he told her, “breaking the- sutures-“ Each word was tainted with a breath, and she looked at him with something desperate and hazy in her eye.

“I’m- _ah-_ I’m sorry-“

“Are you?” he inquired, slowly sliding out of her before snapping his hips forward.

She gasped. “Yes! _Yes-“_

He didn’t let up, only increasing the pace and looking down to see how she accepted him inside. Her eye rolled back into her head when he adjusted his angle to better catch the front of her walls, rolling his hips and grinding slightly to rub against her g-spot.

He could feel it, then, how desperately she wanted to touch him, how deeply she needed to kiss him and find some leverage of control, when he finally opened his soul more completely to her. He felt it all. Her frustrations mounting from the previous week, her _need_ for release, urgent and desperate, her unshakable faith in him, his name the only word bouncing around her soul.

“Is this what you wanted?” he asked, but it was more of a demand as he thrust into her savagely, listening to her cry out as he yanked on her necklace. Her metaphorical leash in that moment. “Well?”

“Yes!” she sobbed out. “God I- _yes_ -“

“To have- a collar? To be- tied down? And- for what?” he asked, punctuating every few words with a savage thrust that had her shaking and shuddering and coming apart. She’d shut her eye in the throes of such stimulation and he grinned as his hair got into his eyes. “Look at me,” he demanded, pulling on her chain once more, causing her bright, beautiful eye to train on him, the haze of pleasure almost entirely overwhelming her. “Did you want- to be- reminded- of how you- belong to me?”

He could feel that she wanted to nod, but she only gasped, instead, outright gushing over his thighs. “Frank- _oh-“_

 _“Tell me,”_ he demanded, grinding into her, rolling his hips.

“ _Yes_ ,” she cried. “ _Yes!_ Oh god I- I’m yours, I’m yours-“ she chanted, desperately wanting to thrash, to buck, to fuck herself onto him- harder harder harder-. He could feel it. He could feel how she wanted him to brace himself and _wreck her_. To bring her to the point where she forgot how to speak, forgot who she was, forgot who _he_ was.

He grabbed her hips, pulling out of her and watching her stay obscenely open for a moment and she whined her displeasure. “No! No, _please_ , don’t stop- I- Frank I feel so- empty- so _empty_ , please-“

He brought himself back into her slowly, looking down and watching them join. The sight of each of his piercings slowly being swallowed by her, the way she took it all, and feeling her stretch around him- it was going to drive him over the edge. Of insanity, of orgasm. He barely even knew which would go first. Especially when she whimpered at how he teased her opening, repeating the motion a few times, driving her mad. Her cunt was puffy- pink and glistening and practically dripping as he fucked her, watching her flushed, swollen clit practically beg to be touched.

His Marie, so ready, so aching, so _wanting._ He could deny her nothing. Not for very long, anyway. And he was almost at the edge, too. He didn’t release his hold on her necklace, tugging once more, but his free hand finally came back to her clit and, once it did, he knew it was all over for her. The sound she made was strangled, the sensation so overwhelming that she gushed once more, and he had to fight to keep his soul stitches in place and- god, he _couldn’t_  because she was keening and needy and wanting to arch up like a bow. She was babbling stupid at that point and he wasn’t too far behind so he mercilessly rubbed her, unable to stop, not wanting to as Marie went feral, and the hand he had at her throat, at her necklace, splayed over her and he released the stitches all at once, feeling the wave of pleasure run through them in the most devastating way that left them both a quaking, shuddering, useless mess.

Marie _screamed_ , so loud and high, as the relief of being able to move bit into her with the sweetest touch of pleasure, combined with his expert stroking over her clit as he fucked her, and she orgasmed as messy and destructive and wet as a hurricane or a storm, squirting and bucking and wailing as he held her down and took her, chasing his own desperate need as he spilled into her, crying out and pitching his face into the crook of her neck.

He couldn’t stop shaking, coming off from the high of his orgasm, from the high of the control he’d had. His brain was mushy: he couldn’t even think or process anything for a few long moments, but when he did, he felt better than he had in a long while.

Stein didn’t realize just how badly he needed to do that, too. That it wasn’t just for Marie. He felt pliant and satiated, and his legs trembled as he tried to keep himself from crushing her beneath him. Marie’s arms fluttered around his shoulders, however, and she pulled him down so she could clutch onto him. Likely, after so long spent unable to touch him, holding him was the largest form of comfort.

“Marie? Are you okay? Marie?” he muttered, her hair in his face as he tenderly kissed beneath her ear, and she couldn’t talk, yet, but she nodded, and he brought them to their sides slowly, giving her ample time to adjust. She still had her eye closed as he splayed his hand against her back, pressing her closer to him and stroking down his spine.

“Do you want me to get water? You lost a lot of fluid-“

The spike of sudden anxiety in her wavelength stopped him immediately and he cradled her just the tiniest bit more gently, petting her hair.

“Alright. I won’t leave. It can wait.”

The wash of contentment came over him like a wave, and he hitched her up higher so he could face her, groping around for a moment for the lab coat he’d left draped over the headboard, throwing it over her. When she was like this, in the afterglow, coming out from sub space, it was a small means of comfort she always indulged in, and, sure enough, she sighed happily, snuggling into the fabric and nuzzling at him.

He didn’t know how long they lay like that, only that he was more relaxed than he had felt in a while, and he spent all of it reassuring her, softly speaking to tell her, over and over, that he was there, with her, and she was safe. And when she’d finally spoke, a quiet, raspy ‘Thank you’, he almost jolted.

“Marie?”

“I’m okay…I’m alright,” she assured. “Thanks for taking care of me.”

He scoffed, brushing her hair out of her face. He couldn’t imagine leaving her alone after something like that even if the entire world was going to hell and he was the only one who could prevent it. He pressed his cheek to the crown of her head and she giggled, poking at his side.

“How do you feel?” he asked her. “Are your vitals stable?”

“I feel better. A lot better. Thanks. And, I don’t know,” she said, and he could practically feel the curl of her smile. “I think I should ask my doctor about that last one.”

“Hmm,” Stein hummed, reaching out and feeling at her pulse. “Your doctor thinks your heart rate is slightly elevated. Have you been running a marathon?” he teased, and Marie laughed.

“Something like that.”

“And it appears as though you’re dehydrated.”

“What do you suggest, Doctor?” she asked, playing around, running her fingers through his hair and tracing his stitches and throwing her leg over his hip.

“Fluids.”

“Didn’t I get an injection just a little bit ago?”

Stein made a face. “Marie-“

“What? I couldn’t pass up the opportunity!” she chortled, laughing harder at his expression.

“I should hook you up to an IV,” he remarked, dryly, and Marie finally stopped laughing a moment after that to snuggle in closer to him, only to be surprised when he pulled away and swept her up into his arms, bridal style, standing up sooner than she could blink. “Woah! Where are we going?”

“The couch,” he remarked. “Well, the bathroom, first.”

“Not the lab? I thought I needed an IV?” she joked, and Stein shook his head as he stretched slightly, making his way out of the room.

“What you need is to clean up and drink a glass of water.”

She smiled for a moment, tracing shapes over his shoulders. “And. . .watch a movie?”

He nodded, curling her just the slightest bit closer as he adjusted his hold on her. “Whichever you’d like.”

She smiled, closing her eye and basking in his warmth, in the smoothness of his steps as he came down the stairs, trying not to jostle her.

All the anxieties and frustrations of the past few days seemed to have simply melted away. And she knew that, perhaps in a little bit, she’d remember them and feel the stress knot her shoulders once more, but for the moment, she was in her meister’s, her _partner’s_ arms, and she couldn’t remember feeling more safe as he made his way into the bathroom, ensuring that they always had a point of physical connection so she was comfortable, fretting over her well being with washcloth in hand.

Marie couldn’t help but grin. She had nothing to worry about at all.

**Author's Note:**

> We're all going to hell and, sugar, we're going down sinnin'.


End file.
